Free The Mystery Woman by Amanda Quick Page B

froze. “I don’t have a connection to him.”
    “That you know of,” he corrected quietly.
    “For heaven’s sake, why would you think I am linked to a murderer?”
    His eyes tightened at the corners. “There is something about this case that makes me think that everything is connected, including you and the assassin.”
    “Assassin?”
    “I believe whoever murdered Fleming was a professional who was very likely working for a fee that night.”
    “Then there
is
someone else involved.”
    “I think so, yes. I am looking for two people—the assassin and his employer. But where do you fit in, Miss Lockwood?”
    “I have no earthly idea.”
    “Can you describe the killer?”
    “Not physically. But I heard his voice. He spoke with a thick Russian accent.” Beatrice paused. “He called himself the Bone Man. I heard him say
the
Bone Man never fails
. I also saw his footprints.”
    Joshua frowned. “Footprints?”
    “I know you will not believe me, but I saw his paranormal prints on the floor of the office that night. I would recognize them if I ever saw them again.” She shuddered. “So much violent energy.”
    “Huh.”
    Her brows rose. “I did not think that you would be impressed with that observation.”
    He let that go. “Damnation. This case grows more bizarre by the day.”
    She poured more coffee for both of them.
    “How did you come to discover that I was Miranda the Clairvoyant?” she asked.
    “Finding people is something I do very well.”
    “Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh said something along those lines.” She searched his face. “What is your secret, sir?”
    “There’s no great trick to finding that which is lost. One simply looks in the right place.”
    Mrs. Flint and Mrs. Marsh were right, she thought glumly. Whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not, Joshua appeared to have some paranormal talent for locating whoever or whatever he set out to find.
    Feverishly she considered the possibility of packing a bag and booking passage on the next ship bound for America. But even as the plan formed in her head she knew it was doomed. Flight would do her no good. Joshua had found her once. He would surely find her again.
    But there might still be a way she could turn the situation to her advantage, she thought. Granted, Joshua had his own reasons for finding the killer, but if he was successful—and given his talent that was a real possibility—she would finally be free of the haunting fear that had shadowed her for nearly a year.
    “I do not deny that Roland billed me as Miranda the Clairvoyant during my association with the Academy of the Occult,” she said. “But I certainly never blackmailed anyone in my life. The only reason that I am not demanding that you leave this house immediately is because I find myself somewhat in your debt after the events of last night.”
    He watched her with his unsettling eyes. “And because it has occurred to you that I am in a position to do you another favor. When I find the blackmailer, he will lead me to Fleming’s killer. You will not only have some justice for Fleming, but you will be free of the anxiety you must have been feeling for the past several months. It is hard to keep looking over your shoulder, isn’t it?”
    It was as if he had read her mind. She fought the impulse to dump her cup of coffee over his head. Really, how could she possibly have found this man attractive?
    “You sound as if you have no doubt but that you can find Roland’s killer and the blackmailer,” she said.
    “I always find whatever it is I set out to find,” he said.
    He was not boasting, she realized. As far as Joshua was concerned, he was simply stating a fact.
    “Have you ever failed, Mr. Gage?” she asked, genuinely curious.
    “No,” he said. He paused. “But once in a while I have arrived too late.”
    And she suddenly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was one of those occasions—a time when he had arrived too late to save someone—that explained